


Gone

by Kr1411



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Depressed Stiles, Gen, Suicidal Stiles, trigger warning: suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:59:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kr1411/pseuds/Kr1411
Summary: Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle the guilt, the pain. It was just too much.Post 3b, includes events from 4x01





	Gone

Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle the guilt, the pain. It was just too much.

Even if he was no longer possessed by the Nogitsune, it felt like he still was. He remembered  _ everything.  _ He remembered all the people he killed, the look on their faces as the oni stabbed them through the chest, or sliced their throat. And he remembered  _ liking _ it, which made everything so much worse. 

And the worst part? He remembered killing Allison, even if the Nogitsune wasn’t technically in him anymore. 

He wished that he had done it when he had the chance. When the sword was in his hands, the tip pressed against his chest. He should’ve just stabbed himself then. If he had, Allison wouldn’t have died, Aiden wouldn’t have died, and things wouldn’t be as bad as they are now. 

Scott claimed he didn’t blame him, that it wasn’t his fault, but that was bullshit. The air wouldn’t be so thick when he and Scott hung out if that were true. Things wouldn’t be as tense, and talking wouldn’t be as bad. 

Just being around the pack in general was hard enough. Allison was Lydia’s best friend, Kira hadn’t known him enough to  _ really  _ know him, Derek, well… he was just  _ Derek _ . 

Then there was Malia. She was really the only one who could understand, but even then, she had her own issues. Besides, why would she care? She probably hated him, just like everyone else probably did. 

Stiles sighed, as he paced around his room yet again. He bit his lip, he would not let himself cry. Not again. He’s cried too much since the Nogitsune was killed.. well, not  _ killed, _ but gone. 

His dad was gone again, he’s been working double shifts at the station because of how far in debt they were. Because of Stiles, yet again. He just ruined everything, didn’t he?

The power was still on, but he wasn’t sure how much longer that would last. And the hospital bills kept racking up, since Stiles was dying, not to mention the hospital made him come in again and again to check, to double check, that Stiles really didn’t have dementia, that that really  _ was _ all a trick. They kept him some nights, so he could get extra nutrition via feeding tube, since, again, Stiles was  _ dying _ . They had to make sure he didn’t get any worse. Which, physically, he wasn’t. 

Mentally was a whole different story. But no one really cared about that, did they?

Stiles took another deep breath as another thought crossed his mind for what felt like the hundredth time that week. 

_ Why don’t you just end it now, before you make everything worse and get someone else killed? _

Stiles felt a tear fall down his face, and screwed his eyes shut.  _ Don’t cry. Not again.  _

He could do it. He could do it and succeed, he knew that. His dad wasn’t home, Scott was probably with Kira or stalki-  _ watching over _ his new beta, Liam, he wouldn’t have to worry about that. Derek hasn’t been seen in months, why would he show up now? And Peter just didn’t care about people in general. 

Lydia, there was a problem there. She would probably be able to find him, but they didn’t live too close to each other, hopefully, he would have succeeded by the time she got a…  _ feeling  _ something was going to happen. 

Lydia. Another reason the pack didn’t need Stiles. She was just as smart - no, that’s wrong. She was  _ so much  _ smarter than he was, she could come up with better plans than Stiles could, and he was sure everyone thought the same thing. 

Stiles looked at the clock. It was only 8:05, meaning his dad wouldn’t be home for at least another 4 hours, if not longer. Probably longer. 

_ Now’s your chance, Stiles.  _

_ Don’t be a coward. Do it.  _

_ No one will care, anyway. They’ll probably not even notice you’re gone.  _

_ Just do it, Stiles.  _

_ Do it. _

_ Do it.  _

**_Do it._ **

Stiles grabbed his head and screamed in agony, tears now falling freely from his eyes. He fell down to the floor, sobbing, letting everything out in tears. The voices, his thoughts, they were right. No one would care if he was gone. Hell, they’d probably dance on his grave even. Maybe he could be buried near Allison, but that could also be wrong in every way. After all, it  _ was _ him that killed her. 

After about five minutes, Stiles shakily got up. He had to do it now. If he waited, he would never feel anything, never get to feel the freedom that comes with death. 

He walked into his bathroom and grabbed his medication: His adderall, Xanax, and Sominex. Since the Nogitsune, Stiles has been sleeping worse than before, but he already had to take ADHD and anxiety pills, he didn’t want to take more at night, so he didn’t. So the Sominex had been collecting dust on his counter, until now. 

Stiles dumped all the contents of each bottle into his hand, and, grabbing a hidden bottle of vodka he stole from his dad’s liquor cabinet the night before, he dumped the pills in his mouth, using the vodka to wash it down. 

Soon, it would all be over. 

Soon…

\-----

Around 2:30, Sheriff Stilinski got home. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour, but lately everyone has been getting on him for overworking himself. And they weren’t wrong, John was exhausted. Besides, he spent most of his time at the station, even though Stiles was probably never home anyway, they haven’t spent enough time with each other. 

John began to make his way upstairs to make sure his son was asleep. It was a school night, and Stiles has been having trouble sleeping since… the  _ incident _ a couple months back. He just wanted to make sure Stiles wasn’t having trouble tonight. 

What he saw instead, was something he wished he would never have to see. Stiles, passed out on the floor, three medication bottles next to him, and an empty bottle of vodka in his hand. 

John ran over to his unconscious son and put his hand on his chest, then his wrist, then his neck, trying desperately to find a pulse. When he didn’t, the sheriff let out a scream. 

_ “Stiles!” _

\-----

Melissa couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw who was wheeled into the ER. She also couldn’t believe what she heard as they ran past with the boy she saw as a second son. 

_ “Attempted suicide, OD and Alcohol mix. No heartbeat.”  _

Melissa ran behind them, trying to see what was going on. The other nurses ran into the nearest available room, where a defibrillator was already set up for when they got there.  

“What’s going on, is he going to make it?” Melissa asked one of the nurses who wasn’t doing anything. 

“He apparently attempted suicide. I… I don’t know if he’ll make it,” the nurse said back, and Melissa shook his head. Stiles would make it. He couldn’t die, not yet. 

They called it fifteen minutes later. 

\-----

“Mom, what do you want, it’s 5:30 in the morning.”

_ “Scott…” _

“Mom… are you crying?” 

_ “He’s gone, Scott. They couldn’t save him, I’m… Oh my god…” _

“Who’s gone, Mom? What happened?” 

_ “Stiles… He… he killed himself…” _

The only noise that could be heard after that was the sound of a phone dropping, followed by a series of “No,” and loud sobs. 

\-----

Class was silent the next day. Scott didn’t want to go, he almost didn’t. The only reason he did was because the school thought he was skipping so much, he needed a parent to call him out of school. And his mom has been working, she didn’t call him out. 

Scott stared at Stiles’ empty seat. Any moment now, Stiles would rush through the door, apologising to the teacher, then whisper to Scott about some crazy theory he had about a werewolf, or werecoyote, or just a normal everyday case. Then the teacher would yell at them, and they would both just laugh and pretend to pay attention. 

But it wasn’t going to happen. He was gone. He wasn’t coming back. 

Scott pushed himself out of his chair, and got out of the room as fast as he could. He couldn’t be in there, not without his best friend. Without his _ brother _ . 

He ran through the halls as fast as he could, just wanting to get out of there. He heard Kira call his name, but he ignored her. He just kept running. 

He remembered what Stiles said that day, at the motel. The exact words Stiles probably needed to hear. 

_ “Listen to me, okay? You’re not no one, you’re someone.” _

_ “You’re my best friend, okay? I need you. You’re my brother.” _

_ “If you’re gonna do this, you’ll just have to take me with you.” _

Why? Why didn’t Stiles call him? He could have helped, he could have done  _ something _ to help. 

Scott didn’t even realise where he ran until he found himself standing in front of Stiles’ house. 

He wasn’t gone. His jeep was in the driveway, Stiles had to be here!

_ But he’s not _ . 

Scott sat on the steps on the Stilinski residence, and put his head through his knees before he started sobbing. He didn’t even realise when a pair of arms wrapped around him. By the mix of his scent and alcohol, Scott knew it was Sheriff Stilinski. And he knew Stiles would want Scott to watch out for him. 

Scott leaned into the sheriff, and just sobbed. He heard the older man began to sob as well.

He just didn’t know how things could get better from here. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not planning a sequel, but I hope you liked this :)


End file.
